A Man's House Is His Castle
by BlueNeutrino
Summary: When Castle is suddenly taken ill at a book signing in New Jersey, his case attracts the attention of Princeton Plainsboro's best diagnostician.
1. An Unexpected Turn Of Events

_**A Man's House Is His Castle**_

**Summary: When Castle is suddenly taken ill at a book signing in New Jersey, his case attracts the attention of Princeton Plainsboro's best diagnostician. **

**A/N: I was a little surprised when I saw that nobody has done a House/Castle crossover before, as they're two of my absolute favourite TV shows and I'd love to see how they could be made to work together. Since nobody has written one yet I decided to start working on one myself. I've never written a House fic before now as I've always felt my medical knowledge wouldn't be sufficient to make it authentic, but since I've recently started doing historical research for one of my other stories I've decided there's no reason I shouldn't do medical research for this one. So, here it is and I hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I own neither House nor Castle.**

_**Chapter One: An Unexpected Turn Of Events**_

With a final flourish of his pen and flashing a charming smile, Richard Castle handed back the freshly signed copy of _Frozen Heat _to the fan in front of him. She took it out of his hands with a huge grin, and semi-squealed "Thank you," before moving away to allow the next in the line to come forward. Inwardly, Castle sighed to himself, wishing the next thirty or so minutes would pass quicker so the signing event could be over and he could go home. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his fans – on the contrary, he was well aware that they were the reason for his success and was immensely grateful for their support - but this promotional book tour felt like it had gone on for too long now. He'd spent last week in North Carolina visiting several bookstores to promote his latest Nikki Heat novel, and then travelled north through Virginia and Maryland for a few days before finally reaching New Jersey, where this would be his last signing session before a couple of brief interviews in the morning and then travelling home to New York tomorrow afternoon.

Tomorrow afternoon was something Castle was very much looking forward to. It had been over three weeks since he'd last seen his daughter or his mother, and although he'd gone without seeing them for longer before, coupled with him not having seen Beckett or his friends at the twelfth either was making him start to feel a little isolated. True, Gina and her assistants were travelling with him, but he'd found that ex-wives he'd split up with twice and near strangers didn't make the best company. What he really wanted was to see Alexis again. And, perhaps just as much, he wanted to see Beckett.

The thought of her was how he managed to keep putting on the smiles for the last few people in the queue, despite the fact that he was feeling exhausted. Really, he couldn't remember promotional tours ever being this tiring before. They'd been pretty demanding, yes, but never before had they left him feeling this completely drained. He wondered if perhaps it was his age showing.

As the queue dwindled and only about ten or so people remained, Castle reached for the glass of water on the table by his hand and downed the last few millilitres from it. He'd had a steady supply of water throughout the day, but by now the bottles of mineral water Gina had ordered for the event had pretty much been emptied and Castle was still feeling somewhat thirsty. Only a few more minutes to go now, then he could get some water from the tap before heading straight back to his hotel room and treating himself to a Scotch.

"Who should I make it out to?" he asked the fan in front of him, a girl of about eighteen with short brown hair and blue eyes, who looked absolutely delighted to be meeting him.

"You could make it out to me," she responded a little shyly, "It's Kate."

Castle felt a slight pang as he was reminded even further of the woman he was missing seeing, but it wasn't wholly unpleasant. "Kate, huh?" he said, smiling as he opened the book to sign the first page, "That's a pretty name."

Kate blushed. "Thanks," she said self-consciously, "That's her name, isn't it? The inspiration for Nikki Heat?"

Castle looked up at her. "Yes it is. The wonderful Kate Beckett," he said, having just finished writing the 'To Kate' part, and then he paused for a moment with the pen hovering over the paper. A slight headache was beginning to bother him now, probably a result of tiredness and dehydration, but he still wasn't going to rush through these last few signings. In particular, he'd picked up something in Kate's accent that intrigued him. "Where are you from, Kate?" he asked her, "Not New Jersey?"

She shook her head, looking both disbelieving and flattered that he was actually showing an interest. "No, I'm from England. I'm here to study at the university."

Seeing how nervous she was, he continued to smile warmly at her. "What are you what are you majoring in?" he asked, setting his pen to the paper to sign his name.

"Astrophysics," she answered simply.

He paused again and looked up. That was actually pretty cool, and not an answer he'd been expecting. "Space and stuff? Sounds cool," he said, and was about to make a further comment when he suddenly felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He felt a brief but very strong urge to be sick, and as it passed he gulped down a breath of air to try to clear his head.

Seemingly oblivious to his discomfort, Kate continued talking, "I know that probably sounds like I should be really into science-fiction and Douglas Adams and stuff, but I really love crime novels too. It's great reading about all the twists and turns in a murder investigation and trying to work out how it all fits together. You're definitely my favorite crime writer. You have this way of really getting inside the minds of the characters, making you feel what they feel, explaining their thought processes, you know?"

She was gushing now, but Castle was still preoccupied with trying to overcome the strange sensation he'd just felt to really pay much attention. What had brought that on? Was it really just exhaustion, or was he coming down with something? Well, whatever it was, he'd just be very grateful for a drink and a lie down once this was over. Drawing another deep breath, he forced himself to focus on just getting the signing session done so he could get back to his hotel. As he lowered the pen again to try and finish his signature, he was surprised to see that his hand was shaking. Forcing himself to continue anyway, he scrawled down a messy autograph and shut the book to hand it back to her.

"There you are, Kate," he said, reverting back to autopilot and just repeating his standard sayings for signing sessions. The smile he was giving her was stretched somewhat thinly now. "Thank you very much, I hope you…" he began to say, but trailed off again as he felt another rush of light-headedness.

He really didn't feel well at all, and shut his eyes as Kate took the book off him. He wasn't really paying attention enough to register her reaction, but he vaguely heard Gina saying somewhere behind him, "Rick, are you alright?"

The truthful answer to that was 'no'. He was starting to feel incredibly hot, and he could tell his face was flushed and beads of sweat were beginning to form on his brow. Yep, he must definitely have come down with something. Just when he thought he could get back to working with Beckett and the others at the precinct tomorrow…

But what had brought this on so suddenly? He started to try and ask Gina for a glass of water, but breathing had suddenly become difficult and the words wouldn't come out. As he looked round to see where his publicist was it was with a sense of panic that he realised his vision had begun to blur. This must be even worse that he'd realised.

"Gina…" he managed to choke out, but when the people around him answered their responses sounded somewhat muted. Oh hell, what was wrong with him?

Thoughts of Alexis and Martha and Kate flooded into his head as he wondered what he was going to tell them and if he would get to see them tomorrow after all. He felt sick. Really sick. And it scared him even further that he didn't know what was happening to him.

Around him everything had blurred into a haze of panicked voices and people talking over each other in urgent tones, and as his vision began to darken the last thing he saw was Gina standing over him and looking down at him with a worried expression before everything went black.

**A/N: Yes, there's a rather shameless self-insert this chapter, because it's based on a real-life experience I had and I figured that since I only would have written a character called Kate anyway, why the hell not? I've avoided writing the part with House this time, as I'm still debating with myself what season of House I'm going to set this during. I know it would mean taking liberties with the timelines, but I think I intend to set it during season five or six because it will give me chance to use my favourite characters. At any rate, I still need to get some research done before I get round to writing that part. And I really, really need to stop publishing new stories because I can't possibly keep up with all of them. But also, I can't keep ideas in my head once they pop up, I have to write them down! So, if you liked this, thank you in advance for your patience with an update, and reviews would be much appreciated.**


	2. Choosing A Case

**A/N: I've decided to set this at some point later on in the current season (four) of Castle and late season five of House. That season of House had my favourite team (Foreman, Chase, Thirteen and Taub) plus Cameron, so I'm setting this after Kutner died (not that I don't like him, I just prefer Chase). Timelines are therefore messed up a bit, but treat it as AU and take it with a pinch of salt.**

**Disclaimer: Last time I'm saying it as it isn't necessary to repeat it every single chapter, I don't own Castle or House.**

_**Chapter Two – Choosing A Case**_

"House!" The sound of Lisa Cuddy's voice rang out in a harsh tone through the lobby of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, her displeasure apparent to everyone in earshot.

Standing at the door to the elevator, Gregory House groaned inwardly to himself and pretended not to hear her. Looking up at the small screen in the wall he could tell the elevator was at the first floor. Just keep up the act a couple more seconds…

With a 'pinging' sound announcing the arrival of the elevator, the doors slid open and House stepped inside. He used the hand not holding his cane to punch the button for the floor and then turned round to watch the doors close. Thankfully, he was only occupant of the elevator and there was no-one else around to hold him up, and as the doors began to slide shut he felt a sense of satisfaction that he'd managed to avoid another tedious tongue-lashing from his boss. It didn't last long however as he saw Cuddy dashing across the lobby to reach him, and just when he thought he was about to get away she reached the elevator and thrust out an arm to stop the doors from closing fully.

It looked like he hadn't avoided her then. But still, she was obviously pissed off with him, and there was some satisfaction to be gleaned from that.

As the doors slid open again Cuddy shot him a death glare. "House," she said again in a very annoyed tone, as if demanding an explanation as to why he'd just ignored her.

He pretended not to notice the way she was looking at him and simply responded with, "Dr Cuddy," as if in formal greeting.

She kept up the glare for a moment longer, but then realising that was the closest she was going to get to polite from him she decided to press on with the reason she wanted to talk to him in the first place. "Have you chosen a case yet?" she asked insistently.

"No," he replied in a tone of complete disinterest.

Cuddy gave him an exasperated look. "House, I gave you those patient files to look at two days ago. I expected you to have picked one of them by now."

"No you didn't," he answered back, "If you _expected _it you would have asked me which one I'd chosen and not whether I had. You knew I hadn't picked one. That's why you were already annoyed with me before you'd even asked."

"Yeah, well it would've been nice if you'd surprised me for once," Cuddy said, trying not to let him see how much he was annoying her. If he knew he was managing to wind her up that would only encourage him even further. "I can't keep these patients in limbo any longer not knowing what's going on, so just pick one of the cases. Which is it going to be?"

House looked like he might actually be thinking about it for a few moments, and then said bluntly, "Neither."

Cuddy glared even harder, her patience wearing thin. "Neither isn't an option, House," she said, "Why are you being so stubborn about this?"

"Because neither of them is interesting."

"What about a seven year old girl who keeps having episodic bouts of amnesia isn't interesting?"

"The fact that she's seven. Some kids just don't pay enough attention to remember anything that goes on around them. And ten years from now she won't remember anything about being seven anyway."

Cuddy rolled her eyes, wishing he'd just stop being uncooperative for the sake of it. "Take the other case then," she said dismissively.

"A guy with a mysterious rash that won't go away? Why bother? It's lupus."

Now it just seemed like he was trying too hard to be awkward. "It's not lupus," Cuddy responded, not even trying to hide her frustration now, "You think they didn't test for that already? It came back negative."

"Well, the tests are wrong," he replied without a hint of uncertainty.

_Arrogant S.O.B_, she thought, but what did she expect? "They're not wrong, House."

"Yes they are. The patient was taking antihistamines to self treat the rash, which causes elevated levels of complement C3. If you did the test when he was first brought in that would lead to a false negative. Do the test again."

He perhaps had a point, Cuddy admitted to herself, but there was no way he could be that confident about it from just having read the file. "If you're so sure about it, House, why don't you just take the case?"

"Because there's no challenge in it. It's boring," House answered.

Cuddy was about to respond when a man walked past her and stepped into the elevator, giving her a slightly puzzled look as he noticed she was standing holding the door open. As the man hit the button for the fifth floor House asked Cuddy, "Are you going to use this elevator? Because some of us don't like waiting and we can't take the stairs." He raised his cane and waved it in front of her for emphasis.

Cuddy scowled at him and then shot an apologetic glance at the other man before saying, "Alright, but choose a damn case by tonight, House, or your clinic hours this week are going to be doubled."

She stepped away, allowing the doors to close as she headed off again while House was left standing with the other man, who looked a little perplexed by the exchange he'd just witnessed between them. House turned to him. "She likes doing that," he said as his explanation for what had just happened, "Cornering men in elevators where she knows they can't get away."

The man just raised an eyebrow at him and nodded in a way that suggested he didn't really want to know.

-oOo-

_Not long afterwards…_

Pushing open the door to the ER and striding inside (or at least striding as much as a man with a limp could stride) House began to navigate his way through the hubbub of the emergency room. He made a point of steering well clear of one of the patients on the left hand side of the room – a youth with oily hair and poor complexion who was obviously just seconds away from throwing up – and made his way to where he could see the blonde doctor in scrubs he was looking for. "Cameron," he called out to get her attention, and as she turned round to see who it was she didn't look at all pleased to see him. "You got a case for me?" he said, not giving her chance to speak first.

Cameron looked like she couldn't understand what he was doing looking for a case in the ER, but decided she'd get rid of him quicker if she just didn't ask. "No," she answered, not stopping what she was doing before and pulling off the latex gloves she was wearing to drop them in a safe disposal container. "But if you asked Cuddy I'm sure she would." She turned her back on him to cross to one of the desks in the room and pick up a patient chart, which she began to fill in.

House followed her, not put off by her dismissive attitude. "She doesn't. I checked."

Cameron looked up from the paperwork and raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? So she's specifically said she doesn't have any cases for you and told you to come and look for one in the ER?"

"No," he answered, "She said she'd got cases for me, but she's wrong. They're no good. Perhaps you can do better."

Cameron just gave an exasperated shake of her head. "I don't know what you're hoping to find, House. Most of the patients here have just been in accidents or had particularly severe allergic reactions. Nothing in your league. You'd be better off just taking whatever Cuddy's offered you."

House didn't look satisfied with that answer, which Cameron knew he wouldn't be, but that hadn't stopped her hoping. "You must have seen dozens of patients come through the ER in the past couple of days," he said, obviously having no intention of leaving her alone until he got what he wanted. "At least one of them has got to have been suffering from something unusual." At that point he reached out to pick up another file from the desk – the patient log – and started to flick through it.

Giving him an irritated look, Cameron stopped filling in her own chart and snatched it off him. "Stop that," she instructed, "If there was anything in there you were needed for Cuddy would have told you already. Why are you so determined not to take one of the cases she's suggested anyway?"

"Because she hasn't suggested any good ones," House said as if addressing a moron, and then reached out to roughly take the file back off her.

Cameron looked like she might try taking it back again, but then just sighed and went back to her paperwork. "Whatever, House," she said, not able to be bothered arguing with him anymore, "But even if you do find anything in there Cuddy won't let you take the case if there's other ones she needs you for."

"Yes she will," House said, "As long as it's better than the ones she's already got. Which won't take much." He started flicking through the file again, talking to himself as he went. "Sudden swelling of the glands…no….Severe cramp in both hands…no…Broken foot through dropping a vacuum cleaner on it? That is completely moronic, but no…"

Cameron continued with her paperwork, wondering when he'd get to the point of just giving up, but was quite surprised when she heard him say, "Right, I'll take that one."

Setting down her pen, Cameron looked up at him with a puzzled expression. He continued to read across the page, paraphrasing aloud. "Brought in last night, where's he now?...Room E63. Right." Apparently satisfied, he appeared to be about to walk away and find the patient he'd just decided to treat, but Cameron abruptly snatched the patient log back off him before he'd even had chance to put it down.

She opened it and scanned for the patient who was down as having been moved to room E63, and frowned in bewilderment when she read that entry. "Seriously?" she said, looking up at House and raising an eyebrow. "Loss of consciousness and asphyxia? _That's _what's got you interested?"

He gave her a mocking look, as if he thought that was a stupid question. "Cameron, I can't imagine why you of all people think that's a bad reason for me to want to treat a patient."

"I don't think it's a _bad _reason," she said defensively, "But usually wouldn't a dozen other people have had to rule out the obvious causes before you took an interest?"

He didn't answer her directly, but instead went down the route of trying to get her to work things out, just like he'd done when she still worked for him. "If a patient was brought in with a case of sickle-cell anaemia, would you be interested?" he asked, causing Cameron to frown as she tried to figure out why that was supposed to explain things.

"Well, yes, but no more so than in any other case..."

That was all the answer he needed to hear before he continued to talk over her. "Right, and what if that patient happened to be Tom Cruise? Then would you be more interested?"

She still couldn't understand why he thought this did anything to explain what was so special about this patient. "Um, yes?" she replied a little uncertainly.

"Why?"

He shot the question at her abruptly, and even though she'd gotten used to his ways of liking to make other people feel stupid, Cameron still wasn't sure where he was going with this. "Because white people don't get sickle-cell anaemia," she answered, knowing he was expecting her to give an answer based on the medical abnormality of the hypothetical scenario.

"Wrong!" House said, obviously enjoying the fact that she'd given the answer he wanted. "_You_'d be interested because he's Tom Cruise. Only a doctor who'd never seen _Mission Impossible _before would find the case interesting solely because it's a highly rare medical phenomenon."

Cameron's frown deepened as she tried to work out why he was playing this game with her. "But _you_ wouldn't. You'd only be interested in getting an answer. The fact that he's Tom Cruise wouldn't matter to you at all."

House had begun to walk away again and Cameron was following him, wanting to hear the rest of the explanation. "The fact that he's starred in hundreds of movies and is worth millions of dollars wouldn't matter to me," House conceded, "But what _would _matter is the fact that he's white and shouldn't have the disease at all. And if being Tom Cruise and being white go together, that means the disease isn't the interesting part, it's the person who's got it."

This was almost starting to make sense to Cameron, but there was still a lot about it she didn't get. "So who is the patient then? Am I missing something?"

They'd reached one of the doors to the ER, and as House leant on it to push it open he looked down at her. "Having read some of his books, I'd say you're missing a lot," he said before opening the door fully and walking out into the corridor.

Now Cameron was intrigued. What did that mean? Had House recognised the name in the patient log? Because she certainly didn't. She was almost tempted to follow him out into the corridor and ask more questions, but then remembered she had a job to be doing and there were people who needed her help for reasons other than just to piss off their boss. House obviously had some ulterior motive for taking the case, but she decided to let him go, thinking that even if she was letting him walk away now she was still going to find out what he was up to later.

**A/N: I said I was going to make a point of doing proper research for this story, but it's been _incredibly _difficult and I've still taken a few liberties. I have no idea if antihistamines actually would cause elevated levels of complement C3. I couldn't find any sources that showed any relationship between them, but lupus would be tested for by seeing if the patient has a low level of complement C3 in their blood. Therefore I think the explanation I've given makes partial sense, but I still feel like it's something I could do better on and I'm going to make sure I continue to do research for it so I can rewrite it at some point. Since I didn't want the story to grind to a halt because of that one small point I carried on anyway, but I now have to respect the writers of House even more for managing to make everything accurate. **

**Another thing I didn't anticipate when I started writing this was just how hard it would be to get House in character. I think what I've done is passable, but I still feel like I could have done better. I'm also concerned that this chapter got a little convoluted towards the end, but writing for House has been even harder than I expected! I'll have to see if I can work on improving.  
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**Fun story I wanted to share: I live in a city with a castle. I was on the bus earlier and going past the end of Castle Street I saw a building called 'Castle House'. Made me smile :)**

**Anyway, I hope you're enjoying this so far and I'd love to know what you think!**


	3. Bad News

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is a little bit short, but I wanted to try writing something from Alexis' perspective before I get back to what's going on at PPTH. I have a bit more research I need to do before I can get round to the next part with House, but I have a few things worked out that I think are going to make sense and I just need to get a few loose ends tied up. So, hope you enjoy this chapter! I intend to get the next one up fairly quickly, work permitting.**

_**Chapter Three – Bad News  
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It was a phonecall like that Alexis had been dreading. Ever since her father had started tagging along with the NYPD four years ago she'd been terrified of receiving a call like that; of answering her phone to hear, "Alexis, we're sorry, but we have some bad news. Something's happened…" But she hadn't expected it to be like this.

She thought that this was the least likely time it could happen. On a book tour with Gina ought to have been the safest he'd been in months, when he was well away from the psycho killers and armed criminals he so frequently gotten himself caught up with. But somehow he'd still managed to get himself in trouble, even when she least expected it. Maybe that was why it affected her so badly, the sudden shock of answering the phone to hear Gina's voice say, "Alexis, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your dad won't be coming back today after all. He's in hospital."

It was that point she felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under her. She been scared for him before – like when he'd told her and Gram to leave the city without explaining why, and she was terrified she'd never him seen again. Or when he and Gram had been taken hostage in that bank hold up. But the sheer unexpectedness of this was what made it hit her like a tidal wave.

Gina had carried on, saying, "But it's alright, try not to worry. The doctors say he's going to be fine," but it was too late by then. Alexis was already panicking. What had happened? What if the people who'd gone after Beckett had gone after him too?

"Why? What's happened?" she managed to choke out in a strangled voice.

In the other room, her grandmother had heard her panicked tone and come to see what was wrong, listening to Alexis' end of the conversation with an expression that grew increasingly worried. When Alexis had finished they'd lost no time in packing immediately and getting the first train out to Princeton.

They were now just approaching New Brunswick and had about thirty minutes left of their journey to go. It had been early morning when Alexis had received the call from Gina – several more were backing up her missed call log from overnight – and she'd been just about ready to go to school, but that obviously wasn't happening now. She'd brought some homework with her to do on the train, hoping it would serve as a distraction, but it wasn't doing any good. She was agitated; unable to settle. There were too many worried thoughts cycling round her head for her to even vaguely concentrate.

With a sigh of frustration, Alexis flung down her pen and the sheet of differential equations she'd been working on and leant back in her chair, tapping her foot impatiently on the floor and drumming her fingers on the table of the first class coach in front of her. In the seat next to her, her grandmother noticed how wrought up she was and reached out to put an arm comfortingly around Alexis' shoulders. "He's going to be find, kiddo," she said soothingly. "Gina said they're only keeping him in a bit longer as a precaution. He should be alright to come home by tomorrow."

Alexis leant closer to her grandmother and welcomed the hug she was being given, even though she still looked worried. "I know, Gram," she said. "But why does dad always have to get into trouble? Even when it's not his fault he always gets into these situations where we don't know if he's going to be okay or not."

Martha gave Alexis' shoulders a squeeze, trying to reassure her. "That's just your father for you; he attracts trouble like a magnet," she said, still sounding concerned about her son but far less distraught than Alexis was. "But he's always got through it just fine before now. He's probably just viewing this whole thing as one more experience to add to the list and wondering how he can incorporate it into his next book."

Alexis said nothing, but inwardly she was thinking _I'm not sure that I want him to anymore. _She wished her father would stop viewing everything as research for another novel and would start taking life more seriously. Maybe it would make an interesting plot twist if Jameson Rook was admitted to hospital in the next Nikki Heat book, but the reactions and emotions of fictional characters on the page weren't real. She, Alexis, _was _real. She had real thoughts and feelings, and having her father admitted to hospital _in real life _was upsetting for her. In the same way that it was upsetting for her when he wilfully put himself in harm's way following Beckett around. Sometimes she felt that he didn't understand that in the way that he should.

The train sped on south deeper into New Jersey and Alexis and Martha sat silently side by side, anxiously waiting for it to arrive at its destination. Even with all the words of reassurance they'd been given so far, it didn't stop them worrying. Martha in particular was more concerned than she was letting on. She was trying not to let it show for Alexis' sake, but knowing what she did about what Rick had been up to – with the mysterious phonecalls from strangers and delving into Beckett's mother's case – she wondered if perhaps this incident wasn't quite as much down to chance as it first appeared.

**A/N: I'm not a native of New Jersey or New York, but Google tells me that a train from Penn Station to Princeton Junction takes about an hour. If anyone has actually made the trip from NYC to Princeton and would care to give me a tip to make it more authentic, please let me know.**


	4. Complications

**A/N: It just so happens I decided I wanted to write this on the Wikipedia SOPA blackout day. Did not make things easy, but I wasn't going to let it stop me. I have most of the info I need now for what I've got planned now and this chapter managed to get completed without the inclusion of too much medical detail, so I think it worked out alright. Enjoy.**

_**Chapter Four – Complications**_

When Castle had awoken that morning he'd been momentarily confused as to where he was, but it hadn't taken long for memories of a night spent in the ER to come back to him. It was only a few seconds before he remembered he was in hospital, and actually, he felt fine. Whatever it was that was wrong with him last night seemed to have passed. That was reassuring. What was also reassuring was when he saw that Gina was already in the room with him, sat on one of the chairs by his bed with a paper cup of coffee in one hand and flicking through a magazine that she had resting on her lap. She was wearing the same clothes as she had been last night, and Castle wondered if she even gone back to the hotel at all. Although, amazingly, she didn't even look tired. But then again, she rarely did. Castle wondered how she managed it.

"Morning," he said to get her attention.

She looked up, at first seeming a little surprised, and then a look of relief spread across her face. She set down her coffee and got up to go to him. "Rick, you're awake! How are you feeling?" she asked in a tone of concern as she reached his bedside.

"Not so bad," he answered honestly, "But I'd feel even better if I could see Alexis. Did you manage to get hold of her?"

Gina nodded. "I did, but it took a while. She wasn't answering her phone throughout the night."

Castle looked like that didn't surprise him and gave a small smile. "Well, she's a sensible girl. Knows she ought to actually be in bed when she has classes in the morning; no wonder she didn't answer the phone."

Gina smiled at him, finding it quite sweet how obvious his adoration of his daughter was when he spoke about her. "Quite," she said in agreement, and then carried on, "But I got hold of her earlier this morning. She and Martha are coming down here on the train right now."

Castle looked pleased to hear that, but still a little sad that they weren't here already. "Any chance you could phone her back so I could speak to her?"

Gina gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry, Rick. You know they won't let you use a cell phone on this ward. It's only an hour's train journey anyway, they'll be here soon."

Castle nodded in acceptance of that fact, realising that was as much as he could hope for, and then drew in a breath before asking another question. "And what about Beckett? Have you spoken to her?" He sounded more nervous than when he had asked about Alexis.

That fact wasn't lost on Gina, and she felt a little bad about the answer she was going to give him. "Rick, I thought it would be best if I didn't speak to her. She's a homicide detective, she doesn't need something like this on her mind when she's trying to solve a murder. I thought it would be best to wait until we know you're okay, then we can tell her what happened on the way back to New York."

Gina had hoped he'd be able to understand her reasons for that and would be okay with it, but the look on his face suggested otherwise. "So you've not even _tried _to contact her?" he asked, sounding a little betrayed.

Despite feeling slightly bad about it, Gina wasn't going to apologise. She thought what she'd done was for the best. "No. I didn't think it was the right time for it," she answered calmly.

Castle just stared at her, looking hurt. "Gina, she's my friend. I think she ought to know."

"Rick," Gina said with a sigh, "When she was the one in hospital she told you not to come and visit her and then shut you out of her life for three months. Imagine if I'd called her and she wouldn't be able to get away from work to see you, or she might not want to, or you'd have to stay here a few more days…How much of a mess could that turn into?"

By now, Gina was seeing something in Rick she hadn't seen very often. The only other times she'd seen him give her this look was when they'd been going through their divorce. He actually seemed angry with her. "Gina, you barely know _anything _about what happened when Kate was in hospital," he snapped, "And you barely know Kate. Now could you just call her please?"

Gina thought he was overreacting. She'd done what she did because she wanted to avoid causing trouble for both him and Beckett, and she didn't think it fair that he was getting mad at her for it. "Alright," she said coolly, "I will. But remember, Rick, I'm the one who came with you into the hospital and sat by your bedside all night, even when I'm not married to you anymore."

At those words he did look as though he felt a little guilty about snapping at her and might have been about to apologize, but at that point the door to the room slid open. They both turned to see who it was, and neither of them recognized the man who entered.

He looked to be in his early fifties, with slightly greying brown hair and stubble on his chin, but the most obviously noticeable thing about him was the cane he was carrying and that he walked with a limp. "Richard Castle?" he asked abruptly.

Wondering who this new man was, Castle answered a little warily. "Yes?"

The man gave a satisfied nod. "Good," he said, and then backtracked a step to stick his head out of the door. "Nurse!" he called out, "Get me a wheelchair and help me move this patient." Castle didn't see what went off in the corridor, but he assumed one of the nurses had done as instructed as the man stepped back into the room and turned his attention back on him. "Right, you're being moved. This room's only for overnighters, you need somewhere more long term."

He said that all in a very commanding tone, and Castle was somewhat taken aback. "Whoa, hey, what?" he said, sitting himself up straighter in bed. "The doctors said I could go home later, provided I didn't get any worse."

"Well, _I'm _saying you can't," the man answered him.

Castle looked completely perplexed by what was going on. "And who are you exactly?" he asked.

"I'm Dr House. I'm your doctor as of now."

"I thought Dr Tamworth was my doctor?"

House gave him a condescending look. "That's why I said 'as of now', which would imply that Dr Tamworth is no longer your doctor," he said in a patronising tone.

Castle exchanged a confused glance with Gina, who gave House a suspicious look. "Why's he being moved? We were told last night he was getting better," she said, clearly having taken a dislike to House.

"He's being moved because he's still sick," the doctor said in a tone of stating the obvious, just as a nurse pushed a wheelchair through the door.

"Dr Tamworth said it was just dehydration," Gina pointed out, still not clear what was happening. "Said it was down to exhaustion from all the travelling and he'd be alright if they gave him fluids and kept him in overnight."

"Dr Tamworth is an idiot," House replied, still talking to them as though he thought they were idiots too. "Dehydration does not generally cause a person to stop breathing. If it was severe enough to do that, there's no way they should be letting him walk out of here."

Castle wondered who the hell this guy thought he was to get away with talking to them like that, whether he was right or not. "I had asthma as a kid," Castle explained, his tone beginning to sound a little confrontational. "The doctor said that mild dehydration might be enough to trigger it again."

House looked like he thought that statement was moronic. "The key word there being 'might'," he said as the nurse pushed the chair up next to the bed. "But on the balance of probabilities, most likely not. Now get in that. I'm assuming you can walk that far." He nodded at the chair.

Castle just glared at him, wondering if he even ought to do as this guy said. House didn't even look like much of a doctor; he wasn't wearing a white coat for a start.

The nurse pushing the chair seemed to have noticed something funny was going on too, and said to House, "Um, are you even his doctor. I thought Dr Tam…"

"No!" House suddenly snapped at her. "Dr Tamworth is not this guy's doctor. Now, come on, we need to move you." He said the last part while looking at Castle and gesturing insistently at the wheelchair with his cane.

Castle was just considering if maybe he ought to go along with it when Gina said, "Well, if you're his doctor what do you think's wrong with him then?"

House turned his attention on her. "I can't know for sure yet, but it's definitely not just dehydration," he said as he began to explain, "He's a writer. What do writers do? They sit in comfy chairs all day and write, and then they go to book signings where they sit in comfy chairs all day and write. Now even if he was tired and the room was _extremely_ hot, the exertion of sitting down and scribbling his name in a few books would not be enough to cause dehydration severe enough for him to pass out. Especially since he had a more than sufficient supply of water. So if the symptoms he's presenting with point to dehydration that must mean there's an underlying cause. I won't know what exactly until I've run a few tests, but I'll say it could be thyroid, neurological…sudden collapse at his age could even indicate a problem with his heart…"

"Whoa, wait just a moment," Castle suddenly said, a little panicked by that information and annoyed that House was talking about him as if he weren't even there. "Firstly, those chairs are _not _as comfy as you seem to think; and secondly, are you saying there's a problem with either my brain or my heart?"

"Quite possibly," House said bluntly, clearly not giving a damn that that might be difficult or upsetting for Castle to hear. "Now get in the chair so I can move you and find out."

Castle was convinced. Well, maybe not _quite _convinced, but definitely worried enough that he was going to do as House said. He was just sitting up and getting out of the bed when the door to the room slid open again and a young doctor with dark hair and wearing a white coat walked in. Taking in the scene before him he looked utterly confused and more than a little angry. "What's going on here?" he began to say, and then noticing the wheelchair and House standing there suddenly said, "House, are you trying to steal my patient?"

House looked nonplussed. "He's not _your _patient anymore, Tamworth, he's mine," House said. "Since a few moments ago."

"What? You can't just take my patient," Tamworth responded angrily, looking a little flustered. "Does Cuddy know about this?"

"I expect Cameron's probably drawn her attention to it by now," House replied, still sounding like he didn't really care. "We might be hearing from the queen harpy in a minute. Which is why I need to move him before she gets here."

Tamworth gave an exasperated shake of his head. "She won't let you try and treat him, you know. I'm discharging him. He's fine."

"He is _not _fine," House responded disdainfully. "You really think it's dehydration when he stopped breathing and there's no obvious cause?"

The younger doctor glared right back at him. "Yes, it was dehydration. All the travelling round the country meant he was a bit run down, but he responded to ventolin and when we gave him fluids his condition improved. We kept him in overnight just to be sure, but his condition didn't get any worse and he's okay to go. All he needs is to get back home and rest for a few days. I've got the discharge forms right here." Tamworth raised his right hand holding the discharge papers for emphasis, but House just took a couple of steps forward and snatched them off him before throwing them roughly to the floor.

"No good to you, he's not your patient," he said dismissively, as he turned and walked back towards Castle.

Tamworth looked like he couldn't quite believe what had just happened and gave an indignant huff. "Yes he is," the doctor insisted, clearly angered by House's completely disregard for authority or manners.

"Cuddy told me to take a case, I'm taking yours," House replied.

Tamworth scoffed. "House, I don't know you very well, but you don't usually take cases of patients who are completely fine."

"And since I _am _taking this case, that would suggest he's _not _completely fine," House said, coming to standstill next to where Castle was sat on the edge of the bed. "Now are you going to get in that wheelchair or not?"

Having just listened to the entire exchange between the two doctors, Castle gave House a glower. "Actually, I think I'll be ok to walk," he said, standing up. "And since you clearly aren't my doctor after all I'm going to discharge myself and get out of here. Now, where are my clothes?" He was still wearing a hospital gown and began to glance around the room for where the clothes he'd been wearing last night were. He spotted them folded up on a chair next to the one Gina had been sat on and began to walk towards them.

House rolled his eyes. "If you do walk out of here you're an idiot," he said in a tone of disdain, as if that might convince Castle to stay. Castle just ignored him.

"House," Tamworth interjected, causing the older doctor to turn his attention back to him. "Will you just stop this and go and find someone else to annoy. I know Cuddy puts up with you but that doesn't mean…"

He broke off as they suddenly heard Gina cry out, "Rick!" and both doctors turned to stare at where Castle had just collapsed to his knees in front of the chair, breathing heavily as Gina put an arm around him and tried to help him stay upright. As the closer of the two doctors House reached him first, bending down and reaching into his jacket to take out a flashlight which he shone into Castle's eyes. Castle looked up at him but didn't really seem to be focussing on him, too breathless to say anything.

"Pupils unresponsive," House muttered.

"What does that mean?" Gina asked, her voice sounding panicked.

"It means," House said, glancing back at Tamworth and looking rather smug, "I was right."


	5. Beckett Beckoned

**A/N: Sorry that it's taken so long for me to post this! I know it's short, but I felt bad about leaving it so long without an update, so I just wanted to post a bit of something before I get round to working on a longer chapter for next time. **

**A huge thanks goes to anyone who's reviewed this story or added it to their favourites/alerts. I've been pretty overwhelmed by how positive the response to this story has been, so thank you all so much!**

_**Chapter Five – Beckett Beckoned **_

Nine thirty. That was always the time he'd arrive, give or take, with his two cups of coffee and smile that would brighten up her day. That was why when Kate Beckett looked up at the clock to see that it was creeping closer and closer to ten, she couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment and worry that Castle still wasn't here. Where was he? He was supposed to be back today, and he hadn't called to tell her otherwise, so she couldn't think what might be keeping him.

Feeling somewhat unsettled, Kate glanced across at the phone that was lying on her desk beside the computer. The screen was blank, and she thought about checking it to see if she had any missed calls, but she'd done that twenty minutes ago and she knew it hadn't rung since then. Maybe she was just being too impatient? Castle would probably show up anytime now. Perhaps he'd just been tired after the book tour and decided to come in later today.

That was a perfectly reasonable explanation, but for some reason she still felt uneasy. He hadn't called her to ask about what case she was working on, or just to see how she was, which was unlike him. In fact, the only contact she'd had was a text from him yesterday morning saying he was looking forward to being back tomorrow. But yet he still wasn't here.

Ignoring the file she'd previously been going through, Kate continued to stare at the phone, wondering if she should pick it up and give him a call. Would that seem silly, though? If it turned out he was on his way here and she was getting worked up over nothing. It wasn't like he needed someone checking up on where he was all the time. But he _had _said he'd be here…

Kate's indecision was interrupted by the sound of someone addressing her as he approached her desk. "Yo Beckett," Esposito said as he reached her, "Any luck identifying our mystery guy yet?"

Suddenly jolted back to thinking about the case at hand, Kate shook her head. "Not yet," she said, flicking through the file of witness statements and CCTV freeze frames she had in front of her. "But I think I want to get a couple of these witnesses in for questioning again. Some of these statements don't match up – one of them says they saw the suspect leave the building at 10.30, but the other one claims they saw a guy fitting the same description hijack a car three blocks away just ten minutes later. I'd like to ask Mr Clayton and Mrs Bronson a few more questions about what happened."

Esposito nodded. "I'll get on that," he said and seemed about to turn away, but then it occurred to him to ask her something else. "No Castle yet?" he asked, seeming a little surprised that his friend still hadn't arrived at the precinct.

Beckett sighed. "No, I guess he must have been tired out after the book tour," she replied, sounding rather downbeat.

"Yeah, that must be it," Esposito conceded disappointedly, but then both of them heard the sound of a much optimistic voice calling to them from across the room.

"Beckett, Espo," Ryan called out, beckoning for them to join him where he was stood by a computer, "You might wanna take a look at this. I think I've got an ID on our mystery guy."

Pleased to have some good news, Beckett got up from her chair and she and Espo began to make their way towards Ryan, but just as they did so the phone lying on Beckett's desk began to buzz. She turned her attention back to it suddenly, hopeful that it might be Castle, but her face fell again when she saw the only thing displayed on the screen was 'private number'.

Picking it up, Beckett hit the button to take the call and answered with, "Kate Beckett," unsure as to who it was on the other end.

Seeing that something had distracted Beckett and Espo, Ryan left his position by the computer and began to make his way towards the pair of them, listening to one half of the conversation that was unfolding.

"Gina?" Beckett said, sounding surprised at first, and then a look of worry crossed her face at the reply. "What happened? Is he alright?...No, I understand…And they don't know what's wrong?...Alright, I'll be right there." She hung up the phone, a look of distress etched onto her face.

Both Ryan and Esposito looked at her in concern, sensing that something was deeply wrong. "What is it?" Ryan asked.

"It's Castle," Beckett replied, still looking shocked. "He's in hospital."

At that, both Ryan and Esposito acquired expressions just as shocked and worried as Beckett's own. "Why? What happened?" Esposito asked urgently.

"I, uh, I'm not sure exactly," Beckett replied, "Gina says he collapsed at a book signing."

"Is he going to be alright?" Ryan asked.

Beckett gave a distracted shake of her head. "I don't know. They don't know what's wrong," she said in answer. "He's at Princeton Plainsboro; I should go see him." She walked round to pick up her coat off of the back of the chair and began to put it on, but then paused and bit her lip worriedly. "If Gates finds out I've abandoned a case to see Castle…" she began, but Esposito interrupted.

"We'll cover for you," he said. "Ryan and I can handle this case. You just make sure our buddy's alright."

"Yeah," Ryan reiterated, "You go check on him. We'll tell Gates you're following up a lead or something."

Giving them both a look of deep gratitude, Beckett fastened her coat and slipped the phone into her pocket. "Alright, thanks guys," she said, "But keep working on this. Check out those witnesses again and see if you can find out who that guy was. I'll call you as soon as I know anything," she told them, and they both nodded as Beckett turned to head for the exit and went to find out what trouble her partner was in.


	6. A Novel Theory

**A/N: Firstly, I'd like to say a huge HUGE thank you to everyone who's reviewed or added this story to their favourites or alerts. Even when I left this going stale for months I still kept getting the occasional review or favourite, and I can't tell you how grateful I am for that. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to BlackadderVII, who began reading this story without having seen Castle and has continued to show support for it and for several of my other stories. Thank you very much to him.**

**Also special thanks to VanillaRosePetals for the kind offer of help with research. Depending on how these next few chapters go, I might be taking you up on that, since I've managed to misplace all the notes I did for this. Somehow they disappeared when I was moving all my stuff around when I went home from university for summer, so I've basically started again and made a few changes to the original plan. I think it may work out for the better this way, although my medical knowledge is still pitiful. I honestly don't know how the House writers managed to do this every week.**

_**Chapter Six – A Novel Theory**_

The repetitive sound of a cane tapping the floor sounded as House paced up and down in his office, speaking another phrase every time the cane hit the tiles. "Sudden loss of consciousness." He spun round and began to step the other way as he continued. "Shortness of breath; episodes of impaired eyesight, vertigo, acute fatigue and chronically deteriorating brain function." Finally, he twirled the cane round in his hand before jabbing it in the direction of the four doctors sat at the nearby table. "Go."

There was a beat in which the four of them looked at him, glanced briefly at each other, and then one of them opened her mouth to speak. Before she had chance, House interrupted again.

"And if anybody says 'dehydration', they're fired."

Thirteen shut her mouth again, glared at him for a moment, then spoke anyway. "Actually, I was going to ask why 'chronically deteriorating brain function' is on our list of symptoms? There's nothing in his medical file to suggest that his brain's been gradually deteriorating."

House gave her a smug look. "That's because you're just looking at the medical file. If you'd read his books it's obvious that this man's brain is nowhere near functioning at the capacity it was a few years ago."

That sentence prompted raised eyebrows around the table. "You've read his books?" said Taub, in a tone that was both mildly surprised and slightly mocking.

"They used to be the only crime novels where I had a hard time figuring out who the killer was," came the rather arrogant response. "His early works were full of twists and turns, and then they gradually got more formulaic and predictable before eventually the moron killed off his main character. Now he's writing some trash about a female cop with a name that sounds like an eighties porn star. Anybody who would kill off Derek Storm to write about a woman named Nikki Heat clearly has a brain problem."

Unconvinced, all four of the other doctors were still reluctant to offer a diagnosis. Chase rolled his eyes. "So he's lost inspiration and turned into a crappy writer. Big deal. That still doesn't suggest there's anything wrong with his brain. Not when his symptoms could be easily explained by exhaustion or an allergic reaction or something less severe."

"Exhaustion caused by what?" The response actually came from Thirteen before House had chance to deal his rebuke. "The guy was doing a book signing; it's not exactly exertive. I don't think there's a brain problem, but there's definitely something wrong here."

Taking Chase's side, Foreman chipped in. "It still probably isn't something other doctors couldn't figure out. I don't see why we aren't taking one of the other cases when someone else could deal with this one just fine."

"That's because, Foreman, other doctors would have overlooked the brain issue," House said condescendingly. "Now thank you, Thirteen, for your input, but I'm paying you to make a diagnosis based on _all _symptoms. So would anyone care to suggest something that accounts for reduced brain function?"

In response to his snideness, Foreman sniped back. "House, why don't you just admit you're only taking this case because you're a fan of his books?"

"Because I'm not a fan," came the put down. "Or did my scathing verdict on most of his novels not make that clear enough?"

The argument could have continued, but then Taub spoke up again. "If there's a chemical imbalance in his brain it could be caused by his glands," he said, causing House's other three employees to look at him in annoyance that he was actually going along with the brain theory. "A thyroid problem would account for the symptoms, and it can cause mood swings that might explain why he'd kill off a successful character."

"And the points for actually doing their job go to Taub," House announced. "Inconsistent thyroid function would give the appearance of dehydration in the short term and explain the long term decline in his writing ability. Go and run the tests."

Thirteen continued to protest. "House, I still don't think we're focussing on the right issue here…" but he waved her away dismissively.

"If you've got any more complaints, save it until you have the test results." He was already beginning to limp out of the room, having decided he had better places to be.

That was the point at which the others realised that continuing to argue was pointless. Reluctantly, and with a few irritated murmurs about Taub being a suck up and House being an arrogant ass, they went to do the tests.

-oOo-

Again, Castle was feeling better, or at least he was while lying down. The moment he tried to get up the dizziness returned and so he found himself confined to his bed. It frustrated him, not being able to get up and walk around just to have a change of scenery, but at least this was preferable to passing out again.

Gina had left about an hour ago, having to organise the packing up of the promo material for the book tour and deal with whichever news reporters were wanting statements about the incident last night. That was fine by him though, since Alexis and Martha had arrived shortly after, and he now knew that Beckett was on her way.

Whatever worry Martha and Alexis had felt upon first seeing him was quickly alleviated the moment Castle mentioned who his doctor was. Alexis went wide eyed for a moment, and then said, "Dr. House? As in Gregory House?"

"You've heard of him?" Castle said, puzzled as to why his daughter would know that name. He was pretty sure he'd never encountered the doctor before in his life, and couldn't think why Alexis would have.

She nodded. "Dad, he's one of the best doctors in the state. Some say in the country."

That was reassuring, although he still didn't have any idea how she'd know that. "That's good, although when did you start finding out so much about doctors?"

"I was doing research, in case I do decide to apply to medical school," she explained. "He's got quite a reputation. All the cases other doctors can't figure out go to him, and he's got an almost a hundred per cent success rate. There's practically nothing he can't diagnose."

Thinking of what the doctor had been like when he'd encountered him earlier, Castle smiled ironically to himself. It seemed he'd got himself a brilliant doctor, who happened to have no manners or people skills whatsoever.

"You hear that, Richard?" said Martha, "You're in good hands. I'm sure you'll be out of here and back following Beckett round in no time."

"Yeah, I should hope so," he agreed. "Although I suppose the question now is, do I be concerned that this is serious enough to warrant his attention? Or be reassured that I have one of the best doctors in the country?" He seemed to think about that for a second, then said, "Or he could just be treating me because he's a fan, which is quite flattering." That seemed unlikely to him, to be honest, but it was nice to entertain the thought.

"What's he like, dad?" Alexis asked, clearly eager to hear more about the famous doctor she'd read about, and he wondered how she was going to feel about the answer.

"Well…kind of rude, actually," he answered honestly, "And arrogant. More than a little egotistical and condescending, even if he does know what he's talking about. I can just see him as a character: the brilliant doctor, whose mind is far superior to those of his peers, but yet his arrogance and disregard for authority lead him to unable to sustain human relationships. His friendships are volatile and strained, their difficulties fuelled by the instability of his personality. A man who is eccentric and brilliant; a genius but socially inept, and thus the only meaning he can draw from life is in solving the problems too difficult for anybody else, the thrill being not in saving lives but in simply solving the puzzle, lending purpose to his day to day existence."

Castle trailed off as he came to the end of his artistic musings, and Martha smiled slightly. "Richard, don't tell me you're going to start writing a series of medical mysteries based on him now."

For a moment Castle actually seemed to consider that, and then said, "Nah, I think it'd work better as a TV show."

Alexis looked a little disappointed, as if her expectations of this man had been spoiled slightly, but before Castle had chance to say something to cheer her up the door to his room slid open and two people in white coats walked in.

"Mr Castle, I'm Dr Chase," one of them introduced himself in an Australian accent. "This is Dr Hadley. We're dealing with your case."

Castle wondered what had happened to House. "Have they switched my doctors round again? I thought Dr House was treating me."

"We're part of Dr House's diagnostic team," the one introduced as Hadley explained, and Castle glanced at Martha.

"I think you're right, mother. I've House as a doctor plus two more. I'll be out of here in no time at all." He then turned back to Dr Hadley. "So what have you diagnosed?"

"Nothing specific yet," she said as she began to prep a syringe, "We need to run a few more tests, so we'll have to get another blood sample. And actually, it's House plus four. We've got two colleagues in the lab going over your blood work from earlier, but there's a couple more things we need to check."

"Five doctors? I feel very privileged," Castle said as he stuck out his arm for her, already a little bruised from the blood test he'd had earlier. "Are you sure that's necessary though? I mean, is my case really that bad?" He was trying to make light of it, but again he wasn't sure if he should be worried or reassured that he had so many doctors treating him.

"It's just part of the standard package when you're House's patient," said Chase. "Don't worry. It just means we'll get you treated five times as fast."

"Well, if that's the case, I've got no complaints," Castle said as Dr Hadley inserted the needle to draw blood into the plastic tube. He'd only been bed-ridden a few hours or so, but it was already driving him crazy.

Withdrawing the needle and pressing a cotton pad down onto the puncture mark, Dr Hadley handed the blood sample to Chase. "We'll get this analysed and should have the results back in a hour or two."

Castle knew he shouldn't expect to know anything for certain by then, but it was nice to hope that perhaps he wouldn't be in here much longer. The feeling of being stuck here was almost as bad as the feeling of being ill itself, and he was pretty sure that if he had to spend more than a few days in here he was going to hate it.

As the two doctors began to leave the room, Castle looked up to see someone else on the other side of the sliding glass door. As he recognised her, the despairing thoughts he'd had about being stuck in hospital began to abate.

She reached the door just as Chase and Hadley had exited it, then entered the room to look at him with her green eyes full of concern. "Castle?"

His mouth turned up in a smile at the sight of her. "Beckett."

**A/N: I realise there has still been no Wilson in this, for which I apologize because I love Wilson. So hopefully next time, if you don't mind being patient. Thank you again to everybody who's reviewed so far, and I hope you'll continue to read even though updates may be infrequent.**


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